


Gunpowder, Taped Fists, and the Demise of the Lucky Raspberry

by FlawedVictori



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 20:48:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18532900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlawedVictori/pseuds/FlawedVictori
Summary: A reposiTori (eyy) of oneshots, drabbles, and pieces primarily about my guardians and their relationships with my friends' guardians.Wide variety of genres, typically hurt/comfort or romance, and a lot of friendly banter. And a lot of trans girls falling in love! It's good stuff.Sometimes, we're even canon-compliant!





	1. Virtue

**Author's Note:**

> As a heads up; the fics in here were written over a range of... a year? Two? So quality will almost certainly vary within.
> 
> Character rundown time!
> 
> Vlana is a Hunter, a bastard, and keeps lucking into meeting girls who like bastards.  
> Virtue is a Titan, a drunk, and is still scarred from waking up in the dark ages.  
> Key is a Warlock, a little nerd, and has spent the last week in her lab with nothing but bad music and takeout, someone help her.

They were calling it The Collapse, Ari had heard.  
  
One of the older kids from the other family had whispered it to her as they huddled around the miniscule torch, the only fire they dared light.

The things, that sprinted and screamed like people but had no face, no eyes, no heart, they were drawn to light and noises, but…

The road to the shadow of the traveler was a long, cold one, and they needed the heat.

/

Three families, sitting around a fire in the shadow of a crashed starship, each of them with their eyes on the same horizon.  
  
They’d finally made it to the point where they could actually _see_ the Traveller, floating off in the distance, but none of them dared rejoice, yet.

The rumors of a fledgling city, built in the shadow of the closest thing to a God humanity had left had drawn them in, but… no one was sure. They couldn’t be.

There had been dozens of patently ridiculous rumors since the darkness had come, after all. Word on the wind of long-dead corpses returning to life, of a chaotic battle, of people who could have their bodies erupt in flames… 

Though, Ari harbored a quiet hope that maybe the rumors were true, that people with fantastic abilities were pushing the darkness back, and everything would go back to normal soon, that there were valiant, virtuous knights in shining armor to help, that they’d get to the shadow and find light…

But, it was not to be.

There’s a scream, off in the distance, and her father turns, his shotgun already out…

And he swears, low and vicious, as a dozen of the no-faces crest the hill.

Ari screams, too, curling into a tight ball and covering her ears as the shots ring out, as more screams join the chorus.

And, in the chaos, she’s the only one who sees the funny little floating robot, with it’s sharp sides and bright blue eye.

It looks out at them, at the chaos erupting...and turns away, flying to the ship.

There’s a flash of blue light, bright and vivid amidst the darkness, and her eyes widen.

/

The woman opens her eyes, face twisting in confusion as muzzle flashes illuminate the horrible scene she’s found herself in.

She wants to ask questions, learn why all these things are killing each other, but there’s a voice screaming in her head, a voice that’s both hers and a stranger all at once.

 _‘Save them!’_ It screams, and so she does.

She leaps out of the cockpit and into the fray, swinging at the first non-human she sees, and it screams as electricity spark to life under its skin, frying the beast.

The others spin to face her, and screams split the air as they charge.

 _‘On your left!’_ The voice yells, and she spins, swinging a massive hand with all her weight behind it.  
  
She feels bone give way beneath its skin, and wants to retch.

But there’s no time to think.  
  
_‘Behind you! Use the shotgun!’_ and she ducks, snatching up the discarded weapon and firing again and again.  
  
She pulls the trigger until it stops firing, dropping creature after creature, until she’s the only one left standing.

The humans stare up at her from amidst the corpses, both of their friends and enemies, and she stares back at them, impassive.

 _‘How did I do that?’_ She wonders, and the voice makes its return.

 _‘I knew you could.’_ It says, and she nods.

“Who…” One of them says, and she turns her gaze to him, tilting her head slightly. “Who are you?”

 _‘Who… am I?’_ She wonders, eyebrows furrowing. _‘It’s… all gone. How did I get here?’_

 _‘I brought you back.’_ The voice says. _‘You’ve been chosen. I don’t know who you used to be, but now... now you’re-’_

“A knight.” One of the little ones says, staring up at her with wide eyes. “A brave knight of virtue and… and skill, who came to save us!”

 _‘Virtue?’_  
  
One of the adults hushes the child, but she pays them no mind, just smiling down at her.

“Yes.” She says, speaking for what feels like the first time. “I am Virtue. It’s nice to meet you.”

The child beams up at her, and she can’t help but smile back.

“Now…” She says, looking around in the darkness. “Where are we?”

One of them laughs, a short, surprised bark, and the others quickly join in.

Virtue herself just smiles, buoyed by their joy.

She still didn’t know what was happening, but…

If they felt safer for her presence, she was glad to provide.


	2. Ensuring Loyalty, Among Other Things

"Marielda!" Kavak blusters, the word nearly lost behind his air mask as he stands behind his desk and throws his arms out wide. "It's always so good to see you!"

 

"Kavak." Marielda responds, straightening her cufflinks and shooting him a small glare. "We have much to discuss."

 

She can't see Kavak's face, but she can sense the Cabal equivalent of an eye-roll all the same.

 

"Always a charmer." He huffs, shaking his head. "Are you here to make a purchase, or just complain?"

 

"Hmph." Is all Marielda says, shaking her head. "We'll discuss your product quality at a different date, then."

 

Kavak says nothing, just leveling a look at her and waiting.

 

It's her turn to huff, and she crosses her arms. "I need a gunman. Someone with nothing to lose, who'll claw at every chance to gain."

 

Kavak either snorts or as a minor malfunction with his mask, she's not sure which... but he speaks nonetheless. "We don't have too many gunmen who aren't our problem cases, but I think I know the one for you. Follow me."

 

He places his hand on the biometric scanner, and a panel in the wall opens into a passageway that he leads her through.

 

The containment areas aren't the longest walk from the sales offices, but Marielda spends every second watching the assortment of Fallen, Awoken, Human and Cabal move around, doing the day to day bits of running a prison... or a slave trade.

 

And this was both.

 

Kavak leads her into a demonstration room, the hard stone of the walls broken up by the turrets that spotted the room, for the patron's safety.

 

There's an assortment of furniture, all hard edges and exposed metal, and Marielda takes a seat, waiting patiently for her purchase... while idly flipping through a viewscreen's tables, looking over the 'stock'.

 

It's only a few short minutes before what seems like a perfectly normal Awoken man (if a bit on the short side) is led into the room at the tip of a Fallen spear.

 

He's got the beginnings of scruff on his cheeks, despite the clear shaving nicks and cuts covering them, and he's clearly been given a buzzcut... but the fire in his eyes is unmistakable, and Marielda leans forward, intrigued.

 

"Who is he?" She asks, and he spits to the side. 

 

"I'm-" He starts, but the Fallen taps his spear against his back and he yelps as he's shocked.

 

"This one," Kavak starts, shaking his head, "has a list of offenses too long to name. Just another untalented thief, doing everything to make glimmer." 

 

Marielda scoffs. "I didn't ask for a patsy, Kavak. Is he meant to be a gunman, then?"

 

Kavak just laughs. "Bastard doesn't look like much, I know, but he fits the bill. Pretty good with a gun, too."

 

"I'll be the judge of that." Marielda snaps, turning to the boy. "What's your name?"

 

"Svetlana." 'He' says, spitting on the ground and glaring. "And quit with the 'he' shit."

 

Marielda sends Kavak a Look, but he just snorts.

 

"I see." Is all she says, standing and stepping close to look over Svetlana, humming to herself. "So, you were trying to make enough for gene therapy, and you robbed the wrong people, hm?"

 

If Svetlana is surprised at her knowledge, she doesn't show it, just glaring. "Maybe."

 

"I see..." Marielda repeats, almost to herself. "Tell me, Svetlana. Have you ever killed a man?"

 

Svetlana opens her mouth, but Kavak interrupts her before she gets a word in. "Not a one, or he'd cost more. Fights like a demon, though."

 

Svetlana mutters something that sounds suspiciously like 'bastard', but Marielda ignores her, turning to Kavak. "How much for one of your problem cases?"

 

Kavak stares, but shakes his head. "You know we don't sell those. It's not worth losing customers."

 

Marielda just grins, then nods at the Fallen. "Get them to bring out prisoner a4f5k. I have... an idea."

 

Kavak stares back... but sighs, relaying the order through his communicator. 

 

Svetlana looks more than a bit confused, but she stays put.

 

It takes a few moments but, eventually, three Fallen lead a hulking Human man through the door, standing him opposite Svetlana.

 

"Ripper." She spits as she glares up at him, apparently unimpressed by the two foot difference in their heights.

 

Kavak sighs again, taking his seat, and Marielda nods at them both. "One of you will be purchased today. The other dies in this room. Begin."

 

Svetlana looks confused for a fraction of a second, but Ripper swings immediately.

 

One moment, Svetlana is there, and the next, she's ducked and rolled away, backing up to get some distance.

 

Ripper, it seems, has no plans to let that be, charging at her immediately. 

 

Svetlana rolls away again, but Ripper keeps going, latching onto a heavy metal chair and slinging it at her.

 

There's a yelp as she ducks and the chair turns into so much shrapnel against the wall, and she dives into the wreckage as the Fallen laugh and Ripper heads over.

 

One massive hand finds it's way around the back of Svetlana's neck, and there's a rush of movement followed by a loud, meaty noise and a gurgling...

 

And Ripper falls to the ground, half of a chair leg embedded in his neck as Svetlana breathes heavily, a hand on her throat.

 

Kavak sighs again as the Fallen jeer at her... but Marielda pays them no mind, just tapping away at her viewscreen. "A good choice, Kavak."

 

"You're paying for damages." Is all he says, shaking her head. "And I'm upping her price, now that she's a killer."

 

"Of course." Marielda says, nodding down at Svetlana, who nods back, looking a bit shellshocked. "I'm already paying for gene therapy, a bit more is nothing."

 

Svetlana's eyes go wide, and Marielda offers her a small nod. "Come along, Vlana. We have places to be."

 

"Vlana?" Svetlana mutters, as if trying the word out, before pulling a face and trudging dutifully behind her new boss.

 

"Ugh, not a chance."


	3. Vices and Coping

A year of gene therapy and hard work later, Vlana is quite a sight.

 

She's grown her hair out a bit, the messy purple suiting her well and framing a face that had grown to be almost beautiful...

 

But she was still young, and she looked it... which was a boon in some ways, like when she needed people to underestimate her-

 

_the world is silent and bodies litter the room, Vlana's hand is still shaking from the kickback of her gun, but Marielda squeezes her shoulder and tells her she did good_

 

-and absolutely horrid elsewhere... like now. 

 

"Liquor, please. I don't care what kind." She says, sinking into the chair and staring at her hand.

 

It's still shaking.

 

"How old are you?" The barkeep asks, leaning over the bar and peering closely at her as two of his hands keep cleaning a glass.

 

"Old enough." Marielda says, a touch of finality-

 

_everyone pulls their weapons at once and Vlana's a tick too late on the draw, there's a burning pain in her side and she fires again and again_

 

-in her voice as she settles into the seat beside Vlana. "Put her on my tab, and get her whatever she wants. Be quick about it."

 

Vlana doesn't say anything, just shaking in her seat, and Marielda rests a hand on her shoulder-

 

_Marielda squeezes her shoulder, whistling softly. "Well, that's one way to settle a business dispute. Good job, Vlana."_

 

-and she flinches away,just a bit.

 

Marielda seems to stop for a moment, and she chuckles as the barkeep slides two cups her way. "We all have our ways of dealing with it, you know." 

 

Vlana looks over at her, confused, and Marielda raises her glass to her lips, taking her scotch slow.

 

"You just need to find yours." Marielda says, sparing her a glance. "Drink your scotch. Take it slow..." She shakes her head and grins, angling her glass towards a corner of the room. "Or don't. Seems you've got an admirer."

 

Vlana's head snaps around, and she meets the eyes of a waifish human woman, who raises a glass her way and shoots her a cocky grin.

 

She raises her glass back and swallows, taking a slow sip.

 

It burns more than she'd expected-

 

_She gingerly touches her side, awaiting the worst... but it's just a graze, she's okay, she's fine-and that's when she falls to her knees and vomits, the smell of death and blood overpowering her_

 

-but she doesn't show it too much, just staring stoically.

 

"I'm off, then." Marielda says, cuffing her shoulder. "We leave in the morning, understand?"

 

She nods, her eyes widening juuuuust a bit as the human woman stands and starts heading her way. "Spaceport six. Got it."

 

Marielda chuckles. "Enjoy yourself. I'll see you in the morning."

 

And she heads off, the door swinging shut behind her just as her company takes the seat Marielda had been occupying and grins at her.

 

Vlana grins back, sipping her drink and nodding as her company introduced herself.

 

Weirdly enough, it was shaping up to be a good night...


	4. As The Curtain is Drawn

"Guardians!" Zavala's voice booms, and Rhys instinctively raises a hand to her helmet, wincing a bit.

 

She sees Tela doing the same, but Void-8 just chuckles at them, clunking a metallic hand against his own helmet.

 

"Asshole." She mutters, and Tela's laugh comes in over the comms, before it's drowned out by Zavala's recorded briefing starting up again.

 

"We've been getting reports of a new dead zone on the Moon. No communications can get in or out, and nothing that goes into the spot seems to leave, whether it's Vex, Taken, or Fallen. We're sending the three of you in to investigate, find out what's causing this, and report back."

 

He clears his throat, and Rhys takes the opportunity to quickly look over her squadmates.

 

Void seems to be multitasking, paying his Vanguard the 'proper' attention, while also swapping out his marks, lost in thought.

 

Tela, on the other hand, is staring off at a wall, either working through some complex calculation or listening intently.

 

Rhys could never tell with them, if she was being honest... but they definitely made good eye-candy. 

 

That pale blue was rapidly becoming one of her favorite colors.

 

"We've already lost one Guardian to this." Zavala says, bringing her back to reality. "Be sure we don't lose any more. Be careful, Guardians. Zavala out."

 

The room falls silent, and Rhys swallows.

 

Void, to her surprise, actually looks worried, for once.

 

Tela just looks... confused, brows furrowed as they try to think through what could possibly be behind all the disappearances. 

 

"Spooky." Rhys says, chuckling nervously, and Void slugs her in the shoulder, laughing mechanically.

 

"Don't chicken out on us now!" He says, boisterous as ever, and she laughs, even as Tela looks up from their thinking. 

 

"Not a chance!" She boasts, laying a hand on Devil's holster. "We've got this!"

 

Tela shakes her head, grinning a little, and from there, it's all back to normal.

 

Just two fools and a warlock, on their way to their doom.

 

/

 

The dead zone was surprisingly easy to find, all things considered.

 

Rhys had been dreading searching for an entrance, but this one... it was open to the air, just a collection of (according to Tela) vex and fallen scrap metal sitting around on the surface.

 

If it hadn't been for their comms suddenly going dead when they got close, they might've overlooked the area entirely... and played right into the hands of whoever'd set up such an obvious trap.

 

They flank out around the scrap, Rhys heading straight in as Tela hangs back and Void-8 goes in from the left.. and that's when there's a sudden call from their left.

 

"Guardians!"

 

They turn, as one, to see the woman standing there, her arms spread wide.

 

She's wearing what Rhys dimly recognizes as fairly low-end armor, and a clear-faced oxygen mask, allowing them a clear picture of a sharply beautiful Awoken woman, face ringed by purple hair just a touch lighter than that of her lips.

 

Rhys hesitates, just a bit... and that's when those lips curl into a grin and she _draws_.

 

/

 

Vlana's grin only widens as she puts two rounds in the face of each guardian, and she laughs as they fall, ghosts buzzing around animatedly, desperately trying to figure out what was happening and revive their guardians...

 

Before she draws her second handcannon and puts two bullets in each of them, too.

 

She takes a deep breath, then heads over to do some looting.

 

"You can come out, now." She mutters, and Carver's voice comes back, pissy as ever.

 

"Yeah, I know. I could hear the shots."

 

Before long, he and Marielda emerge from their hiding spots, and help with picking apart the spoils.

 

"If you wanted it done quieter, you could have helped." She snarks, kneeling down beside the corpse of the Hunter and pulling the gun from her hand, whistling softly at it's brightly-shined orange-on-black finish.  

 

"These three weren't fucking around. Might be worth changing spots, M."

 

"Perhaps." Marielda says, from somewhere behind her. "I've been thinking about moving up in the world, anyhow."

 

Vlana laughs, looking the gun over. "Yeah, yeah. And then we'll be _legitimate_ bodyguards, right, Carver?"

 

Carver laughs, the booming sound seeming to come from right beside her. "Yeah, just like last time, before Vee fucked it up."

 

"Oh, fuck off." Vlana mutters, slipping the handcannon into her pants. "You-"

 

"Do it." Marielda says, from right behind her, and she turns around, confused...

 

Or rather, she tries to. 

 

The first shot rings, hard and heavy in her ear, and she falls to the ground, something hot and wet spilling against the side of her head.

 

She blinks up at the two vague shapes, confused. "What's..."

 

Talking is a struggle, suddenly, and the shape to her left raises it's arm at her.

 

"Nothing personal, Vee." Marielda says, as her already-fading vision swims. "But I can't keep such a liability close to me, you understand."

 

"I don't-" She manages, breathing heavily, and that's when the shape on the right nods, and the second shot booms.

 

She doesn't hear that one.

 

She doesn't hear anything for a long time.

 

But, when she finally does...

 

/

 

"Welcome back, Guardian." The tinny voice says as she sits up, confusedly touching her helmet. "You can call me Dionysus."

 

"You've got to be fucking with me..." She mutters, shaking her head...

 

But, the scenery doesn't change. 

 

Nor does the Ghost floating in front of her.

 

"Unfortunately not." It buzzes, sighing.

 

She stands, reaching for the handcannon she'd stowed away just a minute-

 

_eight months_

 

-ago, and shaking her head again as she pulls it out.

 

"A guardian, huh..."

 

Dionysus sighs, but she just dons a grim smile.

 

"C'mon, Dio. Let's get off this rock."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so;this is the first major canon departure. 
> 
> As we all know, Guardians don't remember their past lives, and all that. 
> 
> But... due to the nature of death, the usual brain fuckery was, in itself, fucked.
> 
> Or at least, that's the explanation I'm going with.
> 
> For full disclosure: Vlana doesn't remember all that much from before she died, but she can't forget the day it happened, and what she was doing, then.


	5. Prizefighter

Virtue was never one for idle threats.

 

Nor threats of any kind, really. She was a woman of action, of sudden, explosive violence and long-ranging regrets, wrapped in mistakes and pain.

 

But that wouldn't stop her, couldn't stop her, didn't have a chance.

 

The Legionary knocks her gun to the side and she falls back, moving into the slightly stiff stance she'd always found herself in when she was unarmed.

 

He laughs, clearly not afraid of a lightless guardian...

 

And she hits him, a quick jab, entirely fueled by anger...

 

But it rocks him back, just a bit. Shows him he shouldn't underestimate her, at least.

 

He tries to dodge the followup hook but he's too big, too bulky, and she's grinning as he stumbles.

 

She swaps stances and hits him with a vicious knee, and there's a whoosh as his air supply is ruptured.

 

And still, she doesn't stop. 

 

Another knee, a kick to the head, a stomp as he futilely tries to plug his air... 

 

And he dies. Millions upon millions of miles away from his home, to a lightless, unarmed, washed up drunk of a guardian.

 

And she grabs his own gun and puts two more bullets in his head.

 

Virtue was never one for leaving threats alive, either.

 

/

"Hey, now..." Cymbe says,tapping her gloves together. "It's been a while since I had a good spar. Don't lose too fast, okay?"

 

Virtue just nods.

 

And Cymbe rushes her, a wide grin on her face, and she falls into that old stance without even thinking about it.

 

She doesn't need to think about this one, much. 

 

Cymbe's good, really good... and yet, she's dodging everything Cymbe throws at her.

 

Every grab twisted out of, every jab swayed away from, every hook ducked...

 

And then she swings, and Cymbe doesn't manage the block. 

 

She'd worry about bruising up her...whatever they were, but they copuld always be healed.

 

And judging by the grin Cymbe was rocking, she was a fan.

 

They break apart for a moment, and Cymbe chuckles. "You're pretty good! Spend much time in the ring?"

 

She shakes her head, every bit as confused as her... and then they move in, and there's no more time to think.

 

/

 

Roxanne 'Roxy' White was never one for idle threats.

 

Sure, the weigh-in trash talk was as much a part of the sport as the actual ring was, but... she'd just never had much time for it.

 

To her, boxing was just that;boxing. Two people heading into the ring and dancing for the crowd, breaking their bodies down to prove they were the best.

 

And sure, the advancements in tech that the Traveler had rung in made it a lot safer, but injuries were still no joke.

 

Her opponent shoots her a death glare, and she just grins back as they advance on her, slipping into that slightly stiff stance that had made her the champion.

 

She'd win this one, just like she'd won all the others.

 

They could bring everything they had, swing with all their might and she'd still get up.

 

Nothing short of death would keep her down and, if she was honest...

 

She wasn't even sure that would do the job.


	6. Just Be

It's impossible.

 

As much as Key hates that word, she has to acknowledge it, eventually. It's impossible for her to really understand her past, the life she once led.

 

She can reconstruct her death easily enough. Someone vented her workshop into space. She died in incredible pain. Easy enough.

 

She might not want to know who did it, but... still, that part is doable.

 

Past that... she has nothing. She gathers that she spent most of her time alone, working on one project or another, and that she never got along with her mother.

 

 

But that's all she knows. 

 

Well... that and flashes of Something. Dreams that come in the night, a bandit holding her close and making her Feel something...

 

But even those fade, in time.

 

And she's left with nothing. No knowledge of who she was, no big insights, just... her name and a shouting match with a woman she couldn't remember.

 

And it hurts, at first. To not know who she was.

 

But eventually, Cymbe says those nine magic words to her.

 

'It's not who you were. It's who you are.'

 

And it hits her like a ton of bricks.

 

From then, she stops trying to understand it.

 

She doesn't need to understand why she was chosen, who she was, any of it.

 

She just has to be.

 

Be her, be a warlock, be a guardian.

 

Be a researcher, be a girlfriend, be a fighter.

 

And she does.


	7. High-Fallutin Shindigs

_Alright, Guardians, This isn’t our usual MO, but sometimes you gotta step outside of your comfort zone. I’m sure that between the two of you, you can figure something out._

_Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘oh, Cayde, I really don’t know how either of us can stand to do this, having to stand around and talk instead of being out there sounds like the worst possible thing’ and, first, told you so, but second, trust me on this, Guardians? I know you can do it, especially after how well you two handled your last stealth mission. Get out there... well, in there._

_/_

“ _This is entirely your fault_.” Coma hissed as they left the Tower and headed towards the port.

“I have absolutely no idea what you could be referring to.” Vlana replied, inspecting her nails. “And whatever it is, I’m sure I was right.”

“We’re stuck spending the night at some boring ‘ _soiree’,_ and it’s all because _you_ decided to charge in, and-”

“I need to go grab a dress.” Vlana interrupted, grinning. “Make sure whatever you get has plenty of leg room. We taking your ship, or mine?”

Coma shook her head. “We’re going together?”

Vlana gave her a quick wink. “Of course. Road head!”

Coma’s face was briefly the same color as her hair, and Vlana darted off, her laughter fading into the distance.

/

It's nearly a full hour before Vlana _deigns_ to show herself again, and Coma's had more than enough time to jog to her apartment and get dressed up for the evening's festivities.

(Esper had spent the time flitting around her apartment, of course, dutifully reminding her of her unread mail and the unopened 'sorry i ditched you' package Keres had had delivered.)

She'd made sure to grab a practical, but attractive dress, (black with red highlights), and she'd expected Vlana to do the same.

But, if there was anything she'd learned about Vlana, it was that she never did _quite_ what you'd expect.

Well, that, and that she squeaked if you scratched her thighs right.

Speaking of thighs...

/

Coma blinks.

Vlana grins, and speaks up. "Somethin wrong?"

Coma turns away to hide her blush.

Vlana had, unsurprisingly, decided to forego anything resembling practicality with her 'dress', if you could call it that.

It was a backless, deep purple dress with a low neckline and prominent slits around her hips, stylized to look rough and jagged, as though it'd been sliced with a knife instead of painstakingly made.

The whole thing looked, to her admittedly inexperienced eye, like a custom job, and it was absolutely jaw-dropping on her.

She would have made some joke about how it would look better off her, if she was anything less than absolutely sure Vlana would offer to show her.

And since she wasn't like some _extremely lucky_ people, she'd spent nearly ten minutes putting on makeup, so she wasn't exactly in the mood to let Vlana smudge her lipstick.

Well... _mostly_ not in the mood, anyway.

“C’mon, Vee.” She says, without looking back. “We’ve got a job _you_ signed us up for, remember?

“I’ll give you a job.” Vlana replies, a high lilt to her voice, and Coma blushes again.

/

The mission was _meant_ to be simple.

Walk into the party like they belonged there, (Which, thanks to some of Cayde's old contacts, they technically did), talk to a few people, act natural for a few hours, order a very specific drink and spill it on the waiter who brought it to them, then insist to help clean and swipe the plans right out of their pocket, so that no one saw the hand-off.

Vlana _apparently_ knew how to pick pockets, which really shouldn't have come as much of a surprise to her at this point.

Light knew her fingers were steady enough...

But, no matter how simple a plan was, there was always something that could blow it wide open, and this was no exception.

/

"Ah, sorry!" Coma says, wiping furiously at the waiter's freshly stained shirt.

Which wasn't likely to help, she knew. No Time To Explain didn't come easily out of a white shirt, but it didn't really matter.

Vlana starts to help, but gives up in seconds, huffing to herself, and Coma feels her eyes on her.

"No, no, it's fine." The waiter says, dabbing at the stain himself. "It comes with the territory, I'm afraid. You ladies enjoy your evening, okay?"

Vlana nods, all smiles, and he's gone.

Coma shoots her a quick look, and she gives a slight nod, before smiling a bit wider.

"So!" She starts, her eyes roaming over the accents of her dress. "Looks like we could use fresh drinks, huh? Could be the start of a great night..."

Coma laughs, her cheeks heating up, and then nearly jumps out of her skin...

At the voice behind them.

"I saw that, Vee." It says, and they turn to see a tall awoken woman, flanked on both sides by tall, burly human men in full combat gear.

"Oh, uh..." Vlana swallows, hard, and it occurs to Coma that this might be the first time she's ever seen the girl wrong-footed. "Hey there, Marielda. Surprised to see you here!" She shoots a look at the man to her right, and the forced smile fades, a bit. "Oh, and you brought Carver, huh?"

"Are you?" She asks, tilting her head. "Odd. Most people are happy to speak to their host. Though... you're not most people, are you? Or, invited, for that matter."

"We were invited!" Coma says, drawing herself up to her full height and staring down the guard who wasn't trying to intimidate Vlana.

He flinches, a bit, and Marielda grins at Vlana. "A new toy, Vee? _Why_ am I not surprised."

Carver takes a step forward, grinning, and Vlana fixes him with a glare. "Well, you know me. Only _two_ things I'm good at, really."

The threat hangs in the air for a second, and then all hell breaks loose.

Carver pulls out his handcannon and darts forward, moving much faster than a guy that size has any business moving, and Vlana's hand slips inside her dress, retrieving a huge knife and slamming it into his chest, before pulling it out with a slight twist and stabbing him twice more.

He goes down, hard, just as 'her' guard is raising his rifle, and a throwing knife sprouts, as if by magic, from his forehead.

People are screaming, but Coma pays them no mind, grabbing up his rifle and snatching the knife from his head as Vlana spins, five shots booming in the crowded room and five guards dropping, and then Coma grabs her hand and they're running, shots ringing out around them.

/

Once they've finally made it to her ship and dropped their pursuers, Coma tackles Vlana to her seat and doesn't let go for quite a while.

Vlana doesn't complain this time, aside from a single huff,and Coma is quiet, too.

There's a long, stoic silence as what just happened sinks in and the post-battle heat fades, and then their Ghosts speak up, in near-perfect harmony.

"Vlana-"

"Coma-"

"You have fourteen unheard messages from... Cayde-6, of the Vanguard."

Esper and Dionysus turn towards each other, bobbing in unison, and Vlana starts to laugh.

And before long, Coma is joining her, just happy to have escaped the worst of the fight.

Besides, it's hard to feel bad with her maybe-sorta-definitely-though-she'll-never-admit-it girlfriend's arms around her.


	8. A Favor

"Guardian." Ikora says, her smooth silk-under-steel voice so unlike Cayde's wheedling or Zavala's loud boom.

 

"Ikora." Vlana replies, crossing her arms and shooting her best glare towards a third of the Vanguard. "You wanted to speak to me?"

 

_Svetlana, be respectable for once! You can't throw a tantrum every time-_

 

_Can it, Dio._

 

"I did." Ikora confirms, the ghost of a smile on her lips. "You have my apologies for the short notice... and for calling you off of Cayde's fireteam"

 

The smile seems to widen, just a bit, and she continues. "I'm sure you would have loved to quell a riot, but Cayde and your...friend will have it well in-hand."

 

"I still would have liked to watch her back." Vlana huffs, dropping the glare in favor of keeping her eyes on the ships flying around the city.

 

"Oh?" Ikora asks, tilting her head and flashing a bit of a wolfish smile. "Remembering your work with Marielda?"

 

Vlana flinches, hard.

"How long have you known?" She asks, trying to keep her voice level, even as panic threatens to overwhelm her.

 

"Since the party you were slipped into ended with a gunfight." She says, letting a glare of her own show. "Did you think I wouldn't do my research?"

 

Vlana glares right back, taking a step forward. "And what are you going to do?"

 

"Nothing." Ikora says, calm. "There is no law against concealing your former identity, nor is there any reason for me to reveal your secrets."

 

She smiles, warmth radiating off her. "I may not be your Vanguard, Svetlana, but I am of the Vanguard nonetheless."

 

"And you watch out for your friends?" Vlana guesses, scoffing and crossing her arms once more. "What do you need done?"

 

Ikora chuckles, but sobers before she speaks.. "There's a man. A rogue warlock. He... took The Red War worse than most. Due to your... particular skillset, i thought-"

 

"You want him in the ground." Vlana says, nodding. "Easy. And if I do this for you, then we're clear?"

 

"This isn't extortion." Ikora says, furrowing her brows. "This is a favor."

 

Vlana just rolls her eyes. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ikora. Send me the info, I'm gonna grab some ramen before I go."

 

Ikora starts to say something else, but Vlana just gives her a two-finger salute as she walks off, seeming to be without a care in the world.

 

/

 

It doesn't take long. Ikora's coordinates were spot-on, and Vlana had always had a penchant for finding fights. 

 

Within an hour of landing on Nessus, she's drawing her handcannon and running for cover as Uzjan Thahl fires in bursts, his own handcannon's shots echoing in threes.

 

She ducks down and takes cover behind the white stone of a Vex construct, cursing quietly as the shots cease and she hears the telltale crackle of a stormtrance mixing with the mad laughter of a man with nothing to lose.

 

By all rights, he should have had her... but...

 

As he comes close to the stone, Vlana flips over it and throws herself at him, holding on tight as he refuses to budge and screaming as Arc energy forces it's way into her veins... but she doesn't let it stop her.

 

She plunges her knife into his throat. Once, twice, thrice...

 

And the body falls out from under her, a small oof escaping her as they hit the ground.

 

There's a moment of silence, and then two more shots ring out through the canyon, shards of a ghost falling to the ground...

 

And all is quiet.

 

/

 

"Job's done." She says, bending down beside the body and retrieving the freshly-stained handcannon, hmming to herself as she examines it.

 

"Good work, Guardian." Ikora says, soft. "You did what must be done, and you did it well."

 

Vlana hums in response, rubbing her hand along the gunmetal grey that made up most of the body of her new toy, and fingering the tip of the knife bolted to it. 

 

"Your secret is safe with me." Ikora says, solemn, and Vlana kills the connection with a quick thought to Dio.

 

"Well..." Vlana says, stowing her new handcannon and stretching. "What do you think about pho for dinner, Dio?" 

 

Dio chirrs in what could have been laughter or chiding, and Vlana laughs, in kind, filled with the grim satisfaction of a gunfight survived...

 

Or a job well done.


	9. A Job Well Done

She doesn't sleep.

 

From the moment she touches down on the tangled shore, she's moving.

 

Moving, fighting, shooting, dying... And it keeps going, again and again.

 

Dio keeps her alive, keeps her from passing out, but it's not the same as sleeping.

 

With sleep, you had time for things to settle, for everything to fall into place...

 

And she doesn't let it. She doesn't let that burn of Cayde's death stop, not even for a moment. 

 

The first kill brings her some joy, watching and hearing the Rider realize she wasn't going to get away and seeing the defiance in her eyes when she pulled the trigger.

 

She uses her crew to track down the rest, laughing internally as they scatter like the bugs they are.

 

Dio tries to talk her down, but she brooks no argument.

 

From there, they drop quick. She tracks them all across the shore,ending them one by one, feeling the joy of the kill fade a little bit more each time...

 

Until she rips the rifle out of the Rifleman's hands and goes to work on him, eyes wild and violent.

 

Then, she feels the joy. Watching the life fade from his eyes, his taunts of killing Cayde's ghost die on his lips, his arms stop fighting her...

 

She feels real, honest joy then, and it scares her.

 

Almost as much as it scares Dio.

 

Even so, she doesn't stop, doesn't rest, doesn't take a moment to reconsider.

 

Seven days after her arrival on the shore, seven days with no sleep or food or breaks... she puts a bullet into the Fanatic's head and moves past him.

 

She's found herself going into daydreams, flashes of a life she might have lived, the times she might have had in this city, and Petra's familiarity isn't helping but she can't remember

_can't think can't breathe can't-_

 

And then... It's There. Some gargantuan monster, unlike anything she's fought before.

 

She doesn't even stop to think, just leaping into the fray.

 

All she can think is how it's denied her her vengeance, how it's absorbed Cayde's killer and it'll die for it.

 

And then, it's gone.

 

She's sure the fight was grueling, but she doesn't remember it.

 

She's locked on one thing;Uldren's body laying on the ground,his eyes open and his chest moving.

 

She strides forward, her gun hand twitching up, but Petra shoots her a Look and she waits.

 

He gives his spiel, openly mocking them and Cayde, and Cayde's gun comes up, feeling wrong and bad and too heavy in her hand.

 

She pulls the trigger.

 

 

/

 

Coma's waiting for her in the spaceport, her eyes wide and more than a little bit scared.

 

Not that she can blame her. She still hasn't slept, hasn't stopped, hasn't let herself think of the remorse in Uldren's eyes-

 

"Vlana?" Coma breathes, pulling her into a tight hug even as she tries to flinch away. "You look like hell."

 

And she laughs, low and quiet and _tired_.

 

"Maybe I am."


	10. Maybe

Vlana never made it to the funeral.

 

And who knows, maybe that's her problem.

 

Maybe that's why she keeps expecting to see him every time she goes into the hangar, maybe that's why she can't look at Coma without remembering his advice, how he'd seemed to know she loved her even when she didn't, or how Coma had just crumpled when she told Vlana what had happened.

 

Maybe she blames herself, maybe that's the problem.

 

Maybe that's why she throws herself into attacking the Scorn, into tracking Uldren down, into putting a bullet in his head.

 

She hadn't been there, hadn't been able to help, hadn't been able to die in his place.

 

Maybe that's why when everyone else is giving their eulogies and talking about how great Cayde was, she was knee-deep in Scorn corpses and screaming at them to keep coming.

 

Maybe she hates Uldren. Maybe that's why she tracks his lackies overnight for a week, maybe that's why she feels that sick glee in her chest when she slams a knife into the Rifleman's eye. Maybe that's why she''s the one to take the shot.

 

Maybe she's crazy. Maybe she's just tired. Maybe she's being taken in by the same shit that led Uldren down the rabbit hole.

 

Maybe she's Alice. Maybe she's the rabbit. Or maybe she's so sleep deprived and tortured by the nightmares that it doesn't really matter, anymore.

 

Maybe the nightmares are the worst part, seeing Cayde die over and over, screaming at herself not to take the other mission, seeing the regret in Uldren's eyes right before she pulled the trigger.

 

Maybe next time it's Coma. Maybe Keres, maybe Ikora, maybe Jackal... maybe its anyone but her.

 

Maybe this is hell, and maybe she deserves it.

 

Maybe they're scared. Maybe that's why everyone keeps telling her to take some time off, Maybe that's why the Scorn run when she transmats in.

 

Maybe she's jealous. Maybe that's why she doesn't like Petra. Maybe that's why Petra doesn't like her. 

 

Maybe she remembers her face, maybe she doesn't. It comes in flashes sometimes, bits of her old life she'd lost when she died. Maybe she could find it again, if she spent enough time in the Dreaming City.

 

Maybe it's because she's awoken. Maybe it's because she's a guardian. Maybe she doesn't want to leave.

 

Maybe she needs to. Maybe she does.

 

Definitely she does.

 

/

 

The therapy helps. It's a little weird to talk about the things she's thinking, especially to someone who wasn't a guardian and couldn't really get how being immortal (until you weren't) felt. She doesn't understand the disconnect from her lives, but she listens.

 

And it helps.

 

Before long, she's managing to sleep through the night, even with the nightmares. They're still hell, but it's a manageable hell.

 

She stops going to the Dreaming City. For a while, anyway. A few months of doing nothing other than light patrols of the wall, and she's doing a lot better.

 

Coma's there, all the way. She even takes the shit duty with her, and never complains about it. Barring the friendly ribbing they've been doing as long as they've known each other, of course.

 

Coma cries, the first time she wakes her up for emotional support.

 

Not that Vlana can blame her, it's a huge step for her, too.

 

But there's a lot of big steps on the road to recovery, and she means to take them all.

 

It'll take a while, but hey!

 

She's got nothin' but time.


	11. Recovery, Side B

Empty.

 

That's how it feels, sometimes. Sometimes she's thrown every last drop of herself into a fight, into a war, into putting a bullet in an asshole's head.

 

And she's empty. Life, or whatever passes for it now, just takes and takes and takes and she never gets it back.

 

And sometimes... sometimes she's full. Sometimes when Coma smiles, when she makes her laugh, when they're just sitting around watching some old holo and she can see Coma hanging off every word... she's full. Full of light and warmth and a billion good things that have nothing to do with the ball in the sky.

 

And sometimes the emptiness isn't bad! Not just that it feels good, because she still finds herself taking pleasure from ending a hard fight, no. There are times when the emptiness is healthy, and those take some getting used to.

 

That was something else therapy had taught her, that some things were healthier for her than others, that some things could hurt her in ways that no ghost could fix... but Dio tried, nonetheless.

 

The worn-out emptiness after therapy is one of those weirdly healthy things, and so is crying in Coma's arms until the tears stop.

 

And that's Probably the weirdest part to her. Even with everything broken about her, Even with her instinctively pushing Coma away, even with so many things changing while others stay the same... Coma stays.

 

She stays, and she helps, and she holds her when she needs it and leaves her alone when she needs that, too, and Vlana loves her so much.

 

Even before the therapy, she'd known that. But now... now it fills her up and she can't help but smile when Coma walks into the room.

 

Dio makes his jokes about how horrifying it is to see her smiling, but she can tell he's relieved, too;he's actually making jokes, now, instead of stressing about everything and feeling worthless because he can't help her.

 

They're getting along so much better, now, and it makes her... happy. Really, honestly happy. 

 

And with her mental health comes new friends, people who would never meet the Vlana she used to be...

 

She hoped, anyway. Therapy had taught her about backsliding, too... but she had a feeling Luna-18 wouldn't abandon her for that, and neither would Rava.

 

And that was the most amazing thing of all, that she'd found people who wanted to stick by her, to laugh at her jokes and cheer her up when she was down.

 

And she doesn't know how to handle it. And that doesn't matter.

 

In the past, she would have pushed them away. Lock herself away from things she couldn't understand, hide from the truth and the light and her duty and just-

 

Hide. And she's past that, now. 

 

She doesn't know how to handle it...but that's fine. 

 

She'll learn.


	12. Crash-Into Hello

The Dreaming City had always been one of Luna's favorite patrols.

 

Something about the haunted beauty and the architecture and...

 

Okay, so maybe it was more that Scorn were fun to fight but whatever.

 

The Taken were, less fun, but throwing down with them was still a good time.

 

Of course, she'd have rather been in the Crucible, but... Well, sometimes a long walk could do her better than a good fight.

 

And besides...

 

"Outgoing message to any guardians in the area-" A terse voice says on the general comms. "The Scorn are doing some kind of ritual, backup required."

 

She grins, summons her sparrow, and kicks it into gear.

 

There was always something happening.

 

/

 

By the time she gets there, Scorn are pouring out of the mists, the few remaining Corsairs are holed up between rocks and making a last stand, and she's sincerely impressed by how calm they'd sounded when they asked for backup.

 

But she'd seen losing battles before, and she didn't have the most hope for this one.

 

Doesn't stop her from charging in with a knife and her handcannon, though.

 

She's just started to get into her rhythm when she hears a wild whooping and notices several of the Scorn flinch.

 

She takes her eyes off the fight just in time to see a sparrow crash into an abomination's chest, impaling itself there while the rider leaps up,jams a bladed  handcannon into it's head, and fires.

 

She sees the gun jerk thrice, and the abomination falls, the guardian riding it down and rolling off to leap into the fight.

 

The Scorn scatter, and Luna laughs as they start to press in.

 

One of their heads sprout an arrow, and she can't help but laugh again.

 

Sniper support, too?

 

"You guys the cavalry?" She yells, jamming a knife into a scorn's throat and tossing it aside, chuckling as her new best friend shoots it on the way down.

 

"Something like that!" She yells back, her weird-ass handcannon firing in bursts. "Left!"

 

Luna dodges to the right and watches as another arrow lands, feeling more than a bit giddy now that the fight is going in her favor. "Bet I can kill more than you!"

 

There's a derisive chuckle and... "Loser buys shots?"

 

A new voice comes along in her comms, smooth and slightly dorkish, and she's almost too distracted to shoot.

 

"Hey, Vee, no fair! How am I supposed to kill as much as you from back here?"

 

"Sounds like your problem!" 'Vee' says, pulling a shotgun off her back and downing a particularly large Chieftain.

 

The Scorn pull back for a moment, and Vee tosses some ammo her way, then starts rapidly reloading her own arsenal.

 

"Looked like you were running low." She says, slightly out of breath. "Don't want you lagging behind."

 

Luna gives a deep, throaty chuckle as she loads her Thunderlord.

 

"Oh, you don't worry about me. Just start thinking about how you're gonna pay for those shots."

 

The Scorn surge in, and the sound of gunfire fills the air once more.

 

/

 

When all is done and the world smells of blood and gunpowder, they finally let themselves relax.

 

'Vee' hits the ground first, just plopping down and stretching as another hunter comes jogging over, her bow on her back.

 

Said new hunter at least takes a moment to adjust her bow before taking a seat beside Vee, leaving Luna to lean against a nearby pillar.

 

Vee reaches up and pulls off her helmet, revealing... a harshly beautiful awoken, her purple hair slicked to the side of her head with sweat and a grin on her face.

 

Luna isn't too proud to admit that she stared, a little, and it only got worse when the other hunter took hers off, too.

 

She was a human redhead, with a strong jaw and gorgeous eyes,and somehow her hair had stayed mostly dry.

 

"Vlana." Vee says, gesturing towards herself. "And this is Coma." She says, nodding at the redhead, who extends a hand.

 

Luna shakes it, her eyes flicking back and forth between them.

 

"So...You two, uh..." She swallows. "Doing... anything tonight?"

 

"Shots with you, right?" Vlana asks, grinning. 

 

It's... somehow incredible smug and also hot and she just marks it up to her being a lesbian.

 

"That Vlana's paying for." Coma chides, gently shoving her.

 

The smugness disappears, and Luna finds herself chuckling as she takes off her own helmet, holding it under her arm.

 

"Right... I'm Luna-18. Nice to meet you."

 

Coma hops to her feet, grinning, and Luna finds herself returning it, even as Vlana grumbles.

 

"We'll meet you back at the City." Coma offers, and Luna nods.

 

"Yeah," She says, still grinning. "see you then."

 

It was shaping up to be a good night.


End file.
